


I Thought You Forgot About Me

by cactwerk (ninnie_eats_chips)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lestallum (Final Fantasy XV), Lost Love, M/M, Other, lost contact, the world of darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2020-07-27 03:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20039458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninnie_eats_chips/pseuds/cactwerk
Summary: You missed him. You missed him so much that it ached every day.Oneshot that takes place in the 'World of Darkness' prior to Noctis' return.





	I Thought You Forgot About Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another old oneshot based off of a dialogue Ask from Tumblr!

You missed him. You missed him so much that it ached every day.

It ached every day since you last saw Prompto’s bright smile, or heard him laugh, or tell you a stupid joke, give you a gift “just because,” show up at your door soaked with an armful of rented movies only to ignore it and kiss you on the couch. He held your hand everywhere you went.

–Until he went where you couldn’t go.

You were so proud of him back then. He showed up at your door with news about the prince’s betrothal to his childhood friend and that Prompto, too, would be allowed to travel across the region in order to see his best friend to the wedding. He raved to you about all the amazing things he hoped to see along the way, and the pictures he wanted to take to capture his memories… and then it became clear to you that you had no place in them.

Not that Prompto didn’t want to take you with him, of course. He apparently _begged_ Prince Noctis to take you with him. But it just wasn’t his choice to make. There was nothing you could have done to help them on their travels anyway. And you would miss Prompto terribly while he was gone, but he’d come back for you.

No one counted on the fall of Insomnia. He probably counted you among the dead; _mourned _you. Through the chaos, there was no complete record of the civilian casualties in the city, only those that were found dead inside the citadel prior to everyone being systematically pushed out of the city in droves. And if… If Prompto had managed to hold onto any idea that you were alive, he would have surely forgotten you by now.

In a way, you were mourning too. All you had left were the ten-year-old photos he took of you together.

You absolutely tried to find him. You did, and that was perhaps your biggest mistake. It must have been fate that you were left behind, never to cross paths again. You would hop from town to town with little else but the clothes on your back–because at that point, you _had_ _little else_–following any information you could find about a bunch of “boys wearing black” (and that was how you knew he stayed alive), but you would never find him. They’d always moved on somehow.

Fate had been cruel enough. Maybe it was your time to move on, too.

In a world shrouded in darkness, you were forced into one place. You took up home in a could-be-worse apartment along with thousands of other people who had nowhere else to go and continued life as best you could.

It’s one night out of the eternal darkness that you’re sitting up in the living room chair unable to sleep that someone knocks at the door, startling you. You’re wary of this with the world the way it is. Not many good samaritans come over to each other’s houses for a chat in the late hours. You have a handgun ready and know exactly where it is hidden, so you conceal it on your person just like the hunters taught you at one of those civilian safety drills. Even though the knocks become so light that you don’t feel overtly threatened, it could be a trap. You rely on your watch to remind you it_ is_ after nine PM.

You approach the door with caution, then unlock each additional latch before opening it just enough to see the visitor’s face.

“Can I help you?”

Your eyes are crawling over the man that stands there gaping at you like he doesn’t know he’s the one who knocked on your door and the first thing you take note of is that he doesn’t look like any of your neighbors. He doesn’t look like-

_“Prompto.”_

No… he _doesn’t._ It can’t be. His eyes are so blue, but they’re so tired with dark circles underneath. Prompto has freckles, but this man’s face has only a smattering of faded dots here and there. His hair would be a golden blonde swept high to the right, but you see dirty sun-deprived strands pointing less dramatically in that direction. Not to mention Prompto could never grow facial hair, but the person standing before you had just a tuft on his chin. Someone like that could never be-

“… (Name).” The all-too-familiar voice responds hoarsely. There are tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you’re shoving back the door._ “(Name)!”_

Prompto steps forward and pulls you into his arms. Your arms are around his neck in a flash and suddenly you’re craning your neck, kissing each other with a fervor that you don’t know if you ever used while you were dating in Insomnia. Yet his lips are just as warm. He holds you tightly and sifts through your grown-out hair just like he always did. And you dig your nails into the very fibers of his clothing as if it is a dream and he will disappear again if you let go.

When you finally stop kissing and breathe, tears are already streaming down Prompto’s cheeks.

“I thought you forgot about me!” You cry as he gingerly cups your face in his gloved hands. His smile at you is the one that you’ve longed to see for so long that for now it’s like you’ve forgotten so much time has passed. You have to think about that for a moment. “I’m sorry, are you sure you–”

The last vowel doesn’t make it off your lips when he kisses you again. You stand there in the doorway like that, swaying and kissing Prompto in the dimly lit room until he lets up again, only keeping you at arms length.

“(Name)… I could- I could never, _ever_ forget you.”


End file.
